


OK

by Sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Season 12 Finale Fix-it, Season 12 finale, major character death - but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 01:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11392629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor/pseuds/Sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor
Summary: The ending of Season 12 was not acceptable, so here's a fic to fix that, mmm-kay?Dean realizes what he's lost & there's just no way things could ever be ok again...





	OK

**Author's Note:**

> For the brief span of five seconds, he’d thought it was all ok. Sure, they still had Rosemary/Lucifer’s baby to deal with, but Lucifer was trapped in an alternate dimension, Mom was back with them again, & Cas stepped out of the portal.
> 
> It was going to be ok.
> 
> And then it wasn’t.
> 
> It wasn’t ok.

For the brief span of five seconds, he’d thought it was all ok. Sure, they still had Rosemary/Lucifer’s baby to deal with, but Lucifer was trapped in an alternate dimension, Mom was back with them again, & Cas stepped out of the portal.

It was going to be ok.

And then it wasn’t.

It wasn’t ok.

Their mother kicked the Devil’s ass straight back to a hell dimension, but she went right along with him. And in those brief seconds of silence, Dean didn’t think anything would ever be ok again.

Mary was gone – and he kind of has a moment of feeling like a dick because that’s not that upsetting. She’d been gone for a hell of a long time for him, & the woman he’d been with this past year had been his mother, but not his mom. He’d said what he needed to say to her earlier. He’d said the goodbye he’d refused to say all those years ago when he’d never gone back to Lawrence to visit her grave.

What he can’t get over, in those moments of silence & stillness after the portal closes & traps Mary & Lucifer on the other side, is Castiel.

Cas.

Dean can’t hear anything else. He knows Sam goes running back to the house & in the dark corner of his mind, he knows it’s the Nephilim. He knows he should follow Sam.

But he can’t.

Because it’s not ok.

Cas is still. Crumpled on the ground like a broken toy. Dean swallows & takes a half step forward & drops to his knees. Dean reaches out a hand, almost as if to touch him, but he stops just shy. Because there’s a small part of him that can’t let it be real.

There’s no imprint of wings on the ground like when other angels died. For a brief moment, he imagines that it can’t be real because of that. But Cas had no wings to leave a shadow…

He’s seen Cas die before. Blown up by Lucifer. Exploded by the power of the Leviathan. Drowned & disintegrated into so much black ooze. Stabbed in the chest with an angel blade, just like this. And each time, he’d come back. Somehow, someway, he’d come back. Dean looks at Cas & waits… waits for him to come back.

Because he has to.

Because it’s not ok.

Because it will never be ok again if he doesn’t.

When Sammy had died, Dean had gone looking for help from a demon. But with Crowley dead & Lucifer gone, Dean’s not even sure any demons exist to ask for help anymore. Chuck or God or whatever had brought all of them back more than once.

Dean glances up at the sky. He’s bleeding & in pain – that’s just registering now. Lucifer kicked his ass good & proper. He’d been in pain before all this & Cas had simply put out his hand & taken it away. Dean needs Cas to take it away again. Needs him to raise up that pale, lifeless hand & touch his forehead. Because if Cas can do that, then Dean can be ok.

He’s not ok right now.

Nothing is ok.

Dean glances up, licking out over his cut lip, & for maybe the third time in his life, he legitimately prays. He calls for Chuck, for God – hell for anyone with the mojo to bring Cas back to him. There are things he never said. Needs to say. He got to say them to his mom. But he never said them to Cas. He figured, maybe, Cas knew. The touches, the hugs, the long stares… He made the angel a friggin’ mix tape, for fuck sake. Cas had to know what that meant…

He prays. He begs. He screams. All in his head. Because if he opens his mouth, he’s pretty sure the only thing that’s going to come out are sobs. And that will make it real.

And that’s not ok.

Dean falls back on his knees, eyes going down over Cas’ prone form. He reaches out, finally, & starts to straighten the angel’s tie & coat. That damned tie was never straight in all the years he knew him. It seems important that it be straight now.

His hands are shaking & Dean can feel the tears wanting to burn the flesh of his face away. He wants to let them.

He’s saved the world. He’s fucking died for this world. Died for Sam. For Cas. He lost his entire family & fought, clawed, bit & fucking refused to give up to get them back. There was always something he could do to make it happen.

But now…

Dean lays his hand over Cas’ chest where the rapid flutter of the angel’s heart should be. It had always seemed to rabbit so fast whenever Dean would pull him in for a hug – or throw him against a wall for being stupid. He hadn’t understood it, what with Cas’ always calm demeanor. Maybe it was the vessel trying to keep up with the power inside.

For all the good it did. The vessel is bleeding & lifeless & the angel it held is gone. In a split second – Cas had been there, alive & well. And then he’d fallen in a heap.

And Dean is not ok.

He remembers Cas trying to stop him when the Mark of Cain had his blood. Saying he would be there when all of Dean’s other friends & family had gone. That he would be there, watching him.

“Fucking liar,” Dean grates out. Crying hurts his ribs – he’s got at least three cracked & probably two broken from the Devil’s boots. But that pain feels like nothing compared to the sharp, jangled edges of what’s trying to process in his brain.

Cas is gone.

And it’s not ok.

Sam had asked him if he’d thought they’d die gasping for air down in the bunker. Of course the answer had been no. He’d expected a blaze of glory.

It feels like he’s dying again. Trying to breathe, but there’s no air. Because Cas is dead. He’s gone.

And it’s not fucking ok.

“Cas.” The word comes out with a smattering of blood as Dean coughs, his lungs battered & lips split. “Cas, I… I…”

He stops as the air around him goes cold & he can hear Sammy calling his name. Dean looks up, blinking as he’s face to face with… it looks human? Maybe. Young, but old at the same time. His eyes glow gold & the boy stands there, looking down at Cas’ body.

Dean wants to push this thing away & protect the lifeless husk. He wants to reach out & grab him & demand for him to do something to fix this. But he just sits on his knees & turns the hand on Cas’ chest palm up.

“Please,” Dean asks. He’s not even sure if he’s making a deal with a devil, an angel, or offering his own soul up in return.

He just needs for it all to be ok again.

“He had faith in me,” the man-child-angel creature says & his voice is both melodious & dissonant. Dean swallows, wanting to cringe away from it, but he sits on his knees & waits.

“Castiel,” it says softly & his eyes glow brighter before there’s a sudden snap in the air, like electric wires colliding. Dean ducks away, hearing Sam calling his name & getting closer. When he opens his eyes, the thing is gone.

He figures that’s bad, but he can’t even begin to care. His head falls to his chest & tears scald his cheeks, falling to mix with the blood in the earth at his knees.

“Dean.”

Dean freezes. He turns to stone. He refuses to look up. Because if he doesn’t look up, then he can just let his crazy brain take him where it wants to & not remember that it’s not ok & will never be ok again. He hears Sam skitter to a halt behind him. Sam’s voice is surprised & hopeful & all those things that Dean is pretty sure he never gets to feel again with Cas gone, but what Sam says makes him screw his eyes shut.

“Cas?!”

And there. He feels it. The rapid flutter of a heartbeat under his hand. Dean groans because his breathing speeds up – he can’t help it. He licks blood from his lips & barely opens his eyes, looking over…

“Dean, you’re hurt.” And fuck it, Dean doesn’t know how or why or what he owes for it, but he doesn’t care. Because there are those blue eyes looking up at him. There’s that voice. That concern.

There’s his angel.

“You’re hurt,” Cas says again, struggling to sit up & reach for him. Dean grabs his hand & squeezes so tight he’s pretty sure he breaks a few bones in the vessel’s hand.

“I’m ok.”

END


End file.
